Elysium
by Roses of Sharon
Summary: There are many, many people here. But he is waiting for someone in particular. JirTsun.


Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

Disclaimer: I do not own _Naruto_.

Summary: There are many, many people here. But he is waiting for someone in particular. JirTsun.

Elysium

His eyes roam once more over the others on the plain. This, he decides, is a nice place. All the food he could ever eat, and all the sake and coolers and beer and wine he could ever drink. And he never seemed to quite get drunk.

That was good.

He wasn't supposed to get drunk.

That was her job.

He doesn't know who she was, but he knows he is supposed to wait for her. He is supposed to… he doesn't quite know what he was waiting for, either; but he knows she was important and he wasn't – isn't - supposed to get drunk without her.

A hand taps him on the shoulder, and he grabs it, turning to face…"Sensei?" It is a disbelieving whisper, and slips out before he gets can get a hold of his thoughts. The Sannin – _Is he a Sannin here, _he wonders - shakes his head. "What are you doing here? Why didn't I see you?"

The man smiles. "You think you are the only one of us here? Look closely." He feels like a child, despite the fact that he is old enough to have grandchildren. But does age even matter here? He has followed the instructions his former sensei gave him more out of habit than anything else.

"Is that…" he gulps. "Hatake?"

His sensei nods and directs his gaze elsewhere, "There are many of us here."

Jiraiya frowns and looks down, catching a glimpse of skin unspotted by age, still scarred, but unwrinkled. "Where are we, sensei?"

He should be worried about this, he thinks, but worry slides away from him like water through cupped hands, and there is, not peace, but acceptance.

His role to play is over, he thinks with some surprise. How strange that finally, he has no purpose.

No purpose but to wait – for _her. _Whoever she was.

His sensei interrupts his thoughts, "This is Elysium, I believe. The Isles of the Blest. Only heroes – truly great people – are allowed here." He smiles down at his student, "I'm happy to see you here, Jiraiya."

Jiraiya nods absentmindedly. Now that this mystery was solved, he had only one other question. "Who else is here?"

His sensei scratches his chin in thought. A new habit, Jiraiya thought. But then again, it had been years.

"Not many people you know. The Sand Yondaime, yeah? The one with the Shukaku kid? And, um, Hatake's teammate. One of them, anyways. Then there's… remember that one Grass nin we encountered down near the orchids on that one mission with the geisha house? Yeah, he's here. And two Rain nin that you might know. I avoid them at all costs, but you might want to catch up on some gossip. Or brush up your history. And then there's…"

Jiraiya interrupts, "Anyone closer?"

The former Hokage laughs, "No, no, just me and Hatake over there. Your teammates haven't gotten here yet. I'm pretty sure at least one of them will."

"Teammates?" That's right, he had teammates. Orochimaru, and… a girl. Who was she?

Someone important.

His sensei looks over at him, "I always forget – your memory's a bit blurry, yeah?"

Jiraiya found himself nodding. "There was… someone. She liked to drink, and we were close, and she is very important, but…"

"Hm. Seems you got yourself a girl. Well, if you're lucky, she'll end up here, too. It might take you a while to remember her, though, if she doesn't show up. Sometimes you don't remember at all."

Jiraiya shook his head stubbornly. "No. She's very important. I can't forget her."

"Well," his sensei finally said, "I'll be over there if you want me."

Over where, Jiraiya didn't know, because his ex-sensei had disappeared.

He sighs, accustomed to the man's antics, and sits down, wishing there were more trees.

And then there are.

How strange.

8888888888

He is awakened by a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake.

"Jiraiya?"

Brought to awareness, he blinks blearily as he had never been permitted to do in life, and looked up at a blonde, hazel-eyed, busty woman.

"Tsunade."

The named rolls from his tongue before he processed it, but he knows, instinctively, that it was hers.

And that she was very, very important to him.

She sits beside him and reaches for a sake bottle.

He takes one, too.

_Now _it felt right.


End file.
